


Gentle Repose

by Dumbothepatronus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Zone
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Canon Compliant, Death, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Inspired by The Twilight Zone, Old Harry Potter, Old Married Couple, POV Harry Potter, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Retirement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26520805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dumbothepatronus/pseuds/Dumbothepatronus
Summary: It's been a long, boring retirement for Harry Potter. But when he goes adventuring in the Forbidden Forest, he gets a little bit more than he bargained for. Inspired by the 1962 episode of The Twilight Zone, "The Hunt."
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Harry Potter, Death & Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Gentle Repose

Boots. Of all the pieces of his old Auror uniform, why did Harry always misplace the boots? Ginny would blame his age, citing white-beard syndrome or some other nonsense. If Ginny caught him. Harry peered over his shoulder; no sign of her. And still no sign of those blasted boots, either.

“Harry? I heard from Albus that—” Ginny’s footsteps stopped dead in the bedroom doorway. He could practically hear her cross her arms, even with his back turned. “Harry James Potter. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Me? Doing? I don’t know what you mean.” He scooted aside a box of photographs, decades of memories from grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren, but the boots did not appear.

“You’re too old for this. Leave it to the young blood. You. Are. Retired.”

If he could just reach the corner of that quilt, move it out of the way—a pinch in his back made him wince. But he reached the quilt, gave it a good tug, and out tumbled his boots. It took him much longer than it should have to wriggle back up to his feet. “Retirement is the dullest job I’ve ever had.”

“Perhaps. But is boredom worth dying over?”

Dying? Harry laughed. “I’m not afraid of death. What was it Beedle says? Something about old friends?”

She pursed her lips. “Be home in time for dinner. My heart can’t take it when you stay out past dark.” She mumbled unintelligibly, probably about the possibility of him being taken out by a flight of stairs. 

It was afternoon when he set out, with a snack in his pocket and a wobble in his step. The papers had mentioned sightings of a wanted wizard in the Forbidden Forest, and Harry was too familiar with Hogwarts’ lax security, especially in the infamous woods. If protecting children wasn’t a valuable pursuit, what was? He apparated to Hogsmeade, slipped on his invisibility cloak, and hobbled upon shaky legs until he reached the edge of the woods.

Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, draping the ground with swirls of yellow light. Had it always been this lovely? As a boy, he’d been terrified by the shadows, by the promises of lurking evil. But today it was serene, as if the very trees whispered peace.

To the west, a pink-berried bush rustled; was this his mark? But it wouldn’t be that easy—tracking never was. He crept closer, but the invisibility cloak brushed the bushes. With hands trembling from age and arthritis, he pulled it off; it would be quieter without it. Just past the ridge, around a tree, a flurry of movement caught his eyes. He stepped towards it and— _ bang! _ An unseen force, suspiciously like dark magic, knocked him to his knees. His vision swam with a flash of red, staining the moss beneath his fingers. Harry Potter slipped into blackness.

  
  


When he awoke, the forest floor was no longer dappled with yellow light. An indigo sky winked through the treetops, and gone were the gentle thrums of insects, the rustles of animals scrambling through the brush. Harry groaned and rolled to his side. Ginny was going to kill him; it had to be way past dinner, and she’d be frantic. If he hurried, he’d get to the apparition barrier before morning. What had he injured? His back? His arms? It was hard to tell, lying there. He stumbled to his feet and flexed his muscles. Odd. The ground must be softer than he’d thought—he didn’t have any bruises, aching bones, or soreness. Even the ever-present pinch in his spine had vanished. Had his assailant healed him before leaving him in the dirt?

A flutter of white swooped through the sky, bathed in moonlight. An owl? Round yellow eyes and pale feathers speckled with black—yes, he saw it now. The owl flew forward and perched itself on Harry’s shoulder. There, it preened itself with its powerful beak. Harry’s jaw dropped. “Hedwig? That’s impossible.”

If it wasn’t Hedwig, it was a bird that acted exactly like her. She hooted, and Harry reached up to scratch her head. It defied logic, but he couldn’t deny what he saw, what he felt. His eyes welled with tears. She nipped his finger, chasing away his final doubts. “Hedwig! I can’t believe it. After all this time.”

She gave him an indiscernible look. If this was Hedwig, then… Harry grimaced, guilt crashing through him like a tidal wave against a cliff. Making it home before dawn—or ever, really—was probably out of the question.

“Well girl, we’d better get walking.” 

Harry walked past patches of knotgrass and mighty oaks, stained midnight blue with ripples of moonlight. Fog rolled in from the east, blanketing the floor in mist. But most striking was the silence. Could this be the same forest he’d entered this afternoon? But of course it wasn’t, not if his instinct was correct. It had an ethereal quality now, as if even the rocks glowed from within. “Which way do we go, girl?”

Hedwig ruffled her feathers and stared off to the west. Harry grinned. “If you say so.” 

The more he walked, the more his heart soared. Where were the aching feet, the stuttering breaths, the throbbing back? He hadn’t felt so good since his thirties—no, his twenties. Through the mist, a long, white row of pickets appeared. Harry stopped. A pristine fence? So deep in the forest? It had to be a sign. 

Hedwig fidgeted on his shoulder. “Easy, girl. Let’s see where it leads.”

He wasn’t sure how long he walked. Though it felt like hours, perhaps days, the moon hovered steadily behind his back. He came to a low gate, swung open wide in unspoken invitation. A man stood behind it, dressed in a pure-white robe, with a beard as red as Fiendfyre. Hedwig screeched.

“Welcome!” said the man. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“What is this place?” Harry craned his neck, trying to peer around the man and his glowing robes. “I was chasing a mean one, almost had him too. But there was a bang—I think he cursed me. I must have hit my head because… well, because everything’s strange here. Am I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘dead.’

The man nodded knowingly. “It’s disorienting at first. But don’t worry, we’ll get you sorted. Just follow me past this gate. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

So this was it. Ginny had been right; oh, she was going to be furious. If he wasn’t dead already, she’d have strangled him. “So this is heaven? You must be the gatekeeper, then. St. Peter?” 

The red-bearded man smiled, a little too widely. “I keep the gate. Now come along. You’ll have to leave your owl behind. They’re not allowed here.”

“My owl? Leave her?” He turned to glance at Hedwig; she was staring daggers at the darkness beyond the gate.

“That’s right. Wizards only.” 

“But I just got her back. I can’t leave her again so soon.”

He chuckled. “But owls belong in the forest.”

Harry would rather let Hedwig decide that for herself. “Can’t she come with me, as far as she wants?”

“Here, I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll take the owl, walk her back and find her a nice tree. Then we can go on together.”

Hedwig hissed. The man ignored her. “Look, do you want to move on, or do you want to spend eternity in the company of trees? Let her go. She’ll be happier here; lots of mice to catch, plenty of bugs.”

Harry very much doubted that. He hadn’t seen or heard a single creature since he’d awoken, other than Hedwig herself. “So to get into heaven, I have to leave Hedwig.”

“To get past the gate, yes. It’s the way of things.”

Faces flashed before Harry’s mind; his parents, Sirius Black, his children who had already passed. As much as he loved Hedwig, her companionship would be a small sacrifice to be with his family. He gulped. “Hedwig, why don’t you hop onto this nice branch over here—”

She let out a screech so loud that his hands flew to cover his ears. “Hedwig! What’s gotten into you?” 

Harry glanced at the gatekeeper. There was something sinister in the set of his lips, in the way he twirled his beard, his pointer finger circling his chin. Had he always looked so mean? So untrustworthy? Harry’s stomach churned. This wasn’t right. Hedwig dug her claws so sharply into his flesh that he wondered if the dead could bleed. 

“Well, thanks for your help, but I’ll be leaving now.”

The man’s smile dropped. “What are you going to do, wander the woods forever?”

“Not sure. But if owls aren’t allowed in heaven, I’m not so sure I want to go.”

He turned and followed the fence, past the gate and towards the endless line of white pickets that stretched before him into the horizon.

“Wait! Wait, I’ll help you.” His voice was frantic, panicked now. “What if you leave her here, just for now, and I’ll send someone up with her. They’ll bring her once you’re good and settled.”

The longer Harry walked, the more the gatekeeper’s cries faded. Hedwig’s feathers relaxed, one by one, until they laid flat over her skin. But the fence stretched long. What if he was wrong? Had Harry just walked away from everyone he loved, from any possibility of seeing Ginny again? With each step he took, the lump rose higher in his throat. He’d been a fool to ignore Ginny, to chase after dark wizards as if he were a hundred years younger. Now he was lost in the woods with no Marauder’s Map to guide him, but at least he wasn’t alone. He stroked Hedwig’s shoulders, and she hooted reassuringly.

When he squinted down the path again, he saw a shape moving towards him. His heart hammered; was this the gatekeeper, returning to haunt and to tempt? But as the shape drew closer, Harry relaxed. 

Another man, in the same blinding robes, jogged along the fence. This man’s beard was white as Christmas snow. Kind, crystal-blue eyes shone from behind half-moon spectacles, familiar and reassuring. A century had passed since Harry had seen his face, in a place much like this one. Perhaps it was a sign of his readiness, or how life and love had changed him, that a tranquil forest had replaced the cold, empty train station.

“Hello, Harry. I wondered when I’d meet you here again. I see you’ve found your owl.” The man pulled an owl treat from his pocket and offered it to Hedwig, who accepted it with a coo. “Well, no point in delaying. The gate’s this way.”

“Can I bring my owl?”

“All animals are welcome. Heaven would be quite a lonely place without our pets.”

Relief flooded Harry’s body. “I met a man with a black beard. He said he’d take me through the gate, but Hedwig couldn’t come.”

“A devilish trickster, that one. We wizards are fortunate our familiars are wise. They see right though him every time.”

Without another word, the man—or was it merely Harry’s impression of a man?—turned and walked onward. Harry followed until a thought stopped him in his tracks. “What about Ginny?”

“Your wife’s a clever one. That devil won’t fool her for a minute. In fact,” the man produced a golden pocketwatch and scrutinized it, “she’ll be along shortly. I’ll watch for her, if you like.”

Harry nodded gratefully. “And the man? The one I was chasing through the forest, you know, before. Will he get caught?

Harry’s guide chuckled, and his eye sparkled with mischief. “Walk, Harry. Walk, and I’ll tell you his story. I think you’ll find yourself most satisfied by the tale.”

By the time they’d reached the gates, glorious against the golden moon, Harry understood what Beedle had been on about. Death was a familiar face, reassuring and comforting. When he saw it, he knew it, and the deepest part of his soul whispered that he was exactly where he needed to be: home. 

* * *

  
  


_ “And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.” _

_ —J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to drop them in the comment box if you feel so inclined. Have a wonderful day!


End file.
